Supernatural
by Iambic Brose
Summary: Randy Beaumont is a bounty hunter. His latest job takes him to Amity Park, a sleepy little town that's more odd than dangerous. Now Randy is thrust into a world of werewolves, witches, and ghosts as he struggles to understand this new world while dealing with an alpha werewolf, his childhood friend who is a witch, and a teenager who runs around as a ghostly superhero.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welcome to our not-so-new AU, something we lovingly call SPN AU. We never could decide on a "real" title, so Supernatural seemed to fit just fine. Despite what the pairing says, this is going to eventually be a four-way fic, between Danny, "Ghost Writer" and two OCs. ~Kas**

**Look... We've re-written this six times? Seven? It's been through so many changes. If we don't post it now, it'll never be seen. We're just little gays who like magic. Please enjoy this wild adventure and know that it took... three years? Four? I don't know, but it's been fun! - Kit**

* * *

There were three things that Randy Beaumont knew for certain about American police stations. The first was that they were overcrowded with posturing thugs, screaming babies, and yelling adults. The second was that help was impossible to find - whether that be due to staffing problems or _staffing _problems. The third, he had discovered quickly, was that it was _impossible _to fill out any kind of sensible paperwork when the entire building was full of screaming children - and he was including the adults in that one. It all made Randy groan inwardly. French stations hadn't been too much better, but that was it. They were better. And there were far less people being held while under the influence of this or that new street drug. It was exhausting, mostly. He already had to deal with these kinds of people while he was tracking them down, but he hated having to go through the police for some of these jobs. That was why he liked to be on his own.

Speaking of… Pausing in his hopeless paperwork, Randy dug through his pockets until he pulled out a ringing phone and saw a blocked number flashing on his screen. In his line of work _that _was a very good sign. This could be good.

"Randall Beaumont, how may I help you?"

"_Randall Beaumont. Can I call you Randy? This is Jacob Richards. I run one of our branches of Ironmonger Corporations here over in Amity Park, Illinois._" Ironmonger? A weapons-selling company, and weapons-making. Very above board. Interesting. "_We have a small problem over here, and it wouldn't do well to put one of our own men in the line of fire, so to speak, if something happens. Is two enough to get you to come up and here me out?_"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Richards," Randy said pleasantly, unable to at least be a little curious. Ironmonger was a name Randy had heard of even when he had still lived in France. As per the American way, they had made quite in industry in firearms. They were also notorious for having a shining clean record. "It might be, but that depends on what I would be helping you out with."

"_Information retrieval. Believe it or not, but we have a… A rival up-and-comer that had one of his little minions steal some very important information from us. I'm afraid I can't tell you much more without you coming down to the office._"

"Is this a negotiable price that you've set down, Mr. Richards?"

"_That's what you'll get for coming up and hearing me out and keeping us in mind if you say no._" Oh. Oh, Randy liked this one already.

"I'll be there tomorrow afternoon."

"_Glad to hear it. Though, if you don't mind my saying, I think we'll make you an offer you can't refuse._"

"We'll just have to see." With that, Randy hung up and looked back down to the paperwork he had been doing before pulling a face. Right. He had to finish this mess up, first. Ah, Americans. Good business, at least.

It took longer than he would have liked, but soon enough and Randy was packed up and on the first flight over to Amity Park, Illinois. What little research he could pull up showed that the town was just another small town among thousands, nothing immediately jumping out at him. It was something Randy didn't like. Small towns were almost always hiding something, and nothing out of the ordinary meant everything was a threat. He had learned that the hard way, already.

A few hours after landing and Randy had a motel room for the night, his bags tucked away, and his best outfit on as he walked into the right building. Nothing seemed suspicious, but that in of itself could be suspicious. The front desk, at least, seemed to be expecting him. "Randall Beaumont here to see Jacob Richards." The receptionist looked up at him, and seemed to be bored out of his mind. He looked at his computer and tapped in a couple things.

"Top floor, end of the hall." Giving a small nod that probably wasn't even noticed, Randy headed towards the elevator and hit the button for the top floor before crossing his arms. He didn't have a good feeling about being here. It felt like he was being watched too closely. It felt like… No, no, he wasn't going to think about that night. Not here. It wasn't going to be like that, again, he told himself firmly.

He needed to focus. He was here for work, after all, and as a Beaumont he had a reputation to uphold. Jacob Richards was willing to pay two grand just to talk to him, so whatever job he had was sure to be well paid. The elevator doors opened in the middle to let a few people in, then to let people out, then in, then out. Seemed he was the only one going all the way up. When he reached the top level, he stepped off and couldn't help but to roll his eyes. Down the hall, alright. That wasn't dramatic or anything.

Keeping his pace even and his back perfectly straight, Randy let his eyes slide from wall to wall. If a fight went down then the only way out would be the elevator. Or whatever windows were in his office, but he'd really rather avoid that option. He liked his bones intact. The doors of the office were open but at least he wasn't stupid enough to put his desk right in the line of eyesight of anyone on the elevator or walking the hall.

Jacob Richards had been at this a while, then. Drawing to a stop in the doorway, Randy rapped on the edge of the frame. "Good afternoon, Mr. Richards. I believe you wanted to meet with me about a job?"

"Randy, come on in. No need to be so formal, please, it's Jacob, or Richards if you prefer. Happy to see you're interested." Hm, he remained seated, though. Not overly friendly, then. Smart.

"You have a way with words it seems, Jacob." There was a touch of an American southern accent to his words - no doubt the cause of his 'friendly' behavior, as well. "What exactly is it that I've found myself interested in?"

"I've told you a bit already. This man, Markus Greenwood. Managed to sneak into our place and steal all sorts of company secrets, you know. We know he still has the information on him on a flash drive, and we know he plans to pass it on to his higher-up, Novan Hale, the morning of the fifth. We're proposing you retrieve this information for us the evening of the fourth. I'd like that info in my hand no later than nine a.m.."

"You mentioned that it wouldn't be a good idea to put one of your own in the line of fire. Unless I'm missing something, you have everything you need to turn this into a court case and push for both repercussions and the return of your information."

"I do mean in the line of fire of the media, of course. I'd like for this all to be taken care of quietly. If it were to get out that someone walked right in and took such valuable information… Well, you see the spot we're in. My bosses wouldn't be pleased."

"Of course." Richards was lying about some part of it, but Randy couldn't figure out exactly which part it was. "I understand the need for discretion, after all. You can guarantee that Markus Greenwood will have the information on the evening of the fourth?"

"I can. He already knows he's on our trail, and he thinks that the safest night for him will be the fourth. Every month he and his buddies have a get together, but you'll probably do best if you catch him just after work."

"I'll keep that in mind," Randy said, letting his smile widen. "Now, I believe all that's left is to work out a price."

"Well, how does twenty five sound? If you make sure to 'hurt him' I'll do forty."

"I take it you didn't appreciate your information being stolen so easily." Randy raised his eyebrows because that was quite a jump just to get some hits in on the guy. "Define hurt."

"Kill him and it's fifty, but if you leave him banged up as a nice little warning to Hale, that's forty." Ah, so there was the darkside, then. Randy gave a small nod, tilting his head in 'thought.'

"I'll keep that in mind. If you can guarantee twenty five for completion, then I'll certainly be sure to keep your extra incentive in mind when I finally meet Mark."

"Consider it done. There is one more thing, too. We've been watching you, Beaumont. We're a big company, word gets around. We like you. You get this done for us, we could have a few more jobs for you."

"Oh?" That was certainly… something. Randy had been doing this job for a few years, now, and very, _very _rarely did a company want to hire him out for more than one job. "Thank you for the consideration. I'll be sure to impress."

"Please do, and thank you, Randy. Sorry to cut it short, but I've got stocks to play, you know how it is."

"Of course." Randy stood up with a smile and noticed that, yet again, Richards didn't bother to stand himself. He probably had half his clientele charmed with his 'southern nature' while hiding his ruthlessness. "I'll be sure to return promptly."

First and foremost, Randy needed to research Markus Greenwood.

::

Randy wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed that the guy had an open social media profile that seemed to spill his entire life story. American in general, it seemed, were just stupid. Lived and grew up in New York, did some traveling when he was younger, had an accident around Amity Park and stayed there to this day. He liked to go out with his friends on Saturday nights, he was single, he worked at the ranger station. Open and shut, nothing that would place him as some henchmen of a mastermind rival.

Randy didn't like it. He _hated _it. There was something wrong about all of this - like there was one last step that he was missing. Mark Greenwood had his life story splashed across social media and he most certainly didn't seem the type to break into a corporation like Ironmongers. He didn't even look or seem like he had the skill to do something like that. And this Novan Hale, when looked into, wasn't any better. He was a few years into a relationship with his high school sweetheart, didn't seem to have a job, grew up in a well-off family, and was only ever seen at the station when escorting people in or out.

Novan Hale seemed to have a few more obvious secrets, but Mark Greenwood seemed to be the threat in this mission. His profile was too clean and at least Novan's seemed to cause a bit of confusion. Randy might need to look into both of them. What was the connection beyond just being friends? Richards had said higher up, but they didn't seem to work together, so what could that mean? That he was older?

Well, in the end, social media could only get him so far. Standing up and looking around his motel room, Randy finally made his way to one of his bags. It seemed like it was time to take a walk around town.


	2. Chapter 2

Amity Park could best be described as a sleepy town, it seemed. There didn't seem to be any rush beyond people trying to get to work and everything just seemed slow. It was as if everyone knew they could go at their own pace and didn't want to bother trying to go any faster. Ugh. Randy hated small towns. Even as he walked through, he felt _something._ Like there was some underlying current of energy and spirit to this town, but he didn't even know what that began to mean, let alone how to decipher it and figure out the obscurities of this little town. For right now, he just needed to try to get information on his target, which was easier said than done.

He could at least stop by the police station, first. If nothing else he could make sure all his certificates to open carry his guns were up to date and, if needed, he could try to get some information on Novan Hale and Mark Greenwood. He didn't have high hopes for that one, but it might at least help. At least the police station was relatively easy to find, but he didn't like how most of the people in this town seemed to be looking at him with distrust, as though they expected him at any minute to just start shooting.

It was sometimes like this in other towns, but there was never this many glares that came from it. Maybe they had a problem with gun control specifically in this town? If it was a recent shooting, Randy might have to rely on hand-to-hand until the night of his job. Randy just opened the door of the police station when a man on the other side had his hand out, ready to do the exact same- Ah. Novan Hale, but he wasn't looking at Randy. He was looking over his shoulder, his own arm around the shoulders of a man around their age. "Thanks, hun! I'm sure I'll be in tomorrow, though, you know how it is." In tomorrow? Was he the sheriff?

Seeing the man's gaze was now on him, Randy took a few steps back. "Sorry, wasn't really paying attention when I went to open the door." Well, this was certainly a bout of luck.

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that, go ahead." Hm. Certainly didn't seem like some cocky upstart rival. Slipping around him, Randy gave Novan a quick look over. Besides the man around his shoulders that looked completely smashed, he seemed average enough. A bit of a fighter's build, but nothing trained, it seemed. "New in town? I think I'd recognize hair like that, if I'd seen it, before."

"That obvious, huh?" Randy laughed, giving a scratch to the back of his head to make it look like he was nervous. "Sort of new, yeah. I've been here for a few days, but I'm only just now getting settled."

"Novan Hale. Nice to meet you. You staying long?" Right. Novan had probably already seen his guns or, barring that, people in the station had.

"Maybe. An old informant of mine told me this place is pretty good for bounty hunters," Randy grinned, trying to give off the vibe of friendly and talkative. "I was coming down to the station to actually see if there was any work I could start right away."

Just like that, Novan's friendly demeanor was gone. "...I see." He didn't say much else, only ushering his friend out to the parking lot.

"Right, then." So much for the town being 'friendly.' So far, Randy had encountered nothing except glares and distrust. So then. Novan Hale had some sort of arrangement with the police? A bounty hunter not wanting someone else on his territory? Randy had run across a couple before.

It could explain why Mark Greenwood was working for him. They could be bounty hunters teaming up for some rival company or they could be working through an organization themselves. That didn't seem quite right, though. If they were bounty hunters then Randy was sure Richards would have at least made an offhand comment about it. Well… He had said he didn't want one of his own 'in the line of fire.' Maybe he meant it literally. At least that made this a fun job, but damn did Randy hate not getting all the information at the beginning. It always made it harder.

It took longer than it should have to talk to the police and work everything out. It seemed as soon as they heard he was a bounty hunter they shut down completely and hardly wanted to work with him. Maybe this town had its own cluster of bounty hunters? It was rare, but it had happened before. Jeez, now Randy would definitely need to get some temporary disguises. At least the white hair made it easier, but he hated having to dye it again after going through two or more disguises, it always liked to fade back to his natural auburn.

Making a quick stop to lock up his guns in the motel room safe he was given, Randy headed back into town and dropped by the nearest convenience store. Even without his guns he was getting some odd or dirty looks. Hm.

"Excuse me," Randy put on a shy, nervous smile as he spoke to the closest worker. "Could you tell me what aisle has your hair dye? I'm afraid my roots might be starting to show, again."

"It's just down personal care, aisle four," she told him, even as she gave him the side-eye. Randy nodded his thanks and made a personal note to himself to _never _work in a small town again.

"-heard he was a hunter-" The whispered words were there and gone along with two people who had quickly turned the corner when Randy passed them. Considering how everyone was acting, Randy assumed that they were talking about him. He was surprised so many ordinary people were so cautious around a bounty hunter. Didn't most people like the whole vigilante type? His father told him plenty of women had fallen for him for that exact reason.

Then again, his father did tend to exaggerate from time to time. Sighing to himself and grabbing a couple different colors, Randy sidetracked towards the reading glasses and sunglasses, as well as the limited section of hats. It looked like he would be switching identities a lot in the next few days. Hm… Which ones hadn't he used in a while… He could be Dustin, but he was rather fond of Derek. Maybe Alex?

Well, for now he could start with Derek and work through the others if he needed to. Hopefully he wouldn't - he didn't want to risk using so many covers in one small town, but he might need to the way things were shaping up. He didn't like all of this. There was something he was missing and in a town like this it should be easy to find, but whatever it was was too well hidden. He didn't like this one bit.

Grabbing a few more things it felt like torture to just get out of the store, Randy noticing more stares and whispers the longer he stayed. Right. Disguise first and then he could take a proper look around town and see if he couldn't find out where Mark Greenwood was, next. Randy had a feeling Novan might have already contacted him about there being a bounty hunter in town. Well, that just made the chase more fun.

Alright, Greenwood worked at the ranger station, so local parks and campgrounds sounded as good a place as any to start with.

::

Finding the local parks and campgrounds was easier said than done when Randy's GPS didn't want to work in this town and everyone seemed cautious and hesitant the second he approached them. People were too reliant on technology these days, Randy mused, if he couldn't even begin to find his way once his GPS went down. There was a little shack, though, next to the forest. That must have been it. He looked around, stepping inside. "Hey there, anyway we can help you out today?"

"Yeah, actually. I moved down here a couple weeks ago and I only just now got settled. Do you have any maps of the hiking trails around here?"

Markus. Perfect. He looked around under the desk, then next to his computer. "Yeah, sure do. We out outside, again? They're around here… Somewhere…" Really? This was the mastermind that snuck into Ironmonger?

"Take your time, I'm not in much of a rush, today." Randy wandered around the little room, keeping an eye on Mark. He didn't seem to be some type of mastermind, that was certain.

"You know what? I think I've got more in the back room, I'll be right back, lemme just double check-" He tripped over something behind the desk and stumbled his way into the back room. There was no way this was the same person. He must have gotten the wrong Mark Greenwood.

Pulling up his phone, Randy quickly looked through all the Mark Greenwoods in Amity Park. There was only one. Looking back up, Randy gave a slow exhale. Right. Maybe Mark leaned towards a more technical aspect. The information was on a flash drive, after all. But then that didn't explain this little do-nothing outdoorsy job. So few people that were technically inclined like to be in the outdoors.

There was a lot that Randy wasn't understanding, here. Ah, another crashing sound. "Are you alright?"

"Yep- Fine!" Mark came back out and smiled at him, looking curious. "If you don't mind my asking, where you from?"

Randy's instincts clawed at him and he was telling pieces of the truth before he could stop himself, "Oh, well, I grew up in France, but I came to America a few years ago after a bit of… drama. I've been on the move for a while now." His instincts had never led him wrong before.

Mark nodded. "Oh, yeah, that makes sense. I heard things over there were getting worse. Well, I hope you find somewhere to settle in, soon. I don't think I'd be able to do that for long." That feeling of a missed step surrounded him again and Randy only smiled as he accepted the maps.

"Thanks. I'm not sure how it is now where I've been gone so long, but I've been doing alright for myself. Oh, right, any trails you recommend?"

"Oh, yeah." Mark leaned over to open up one of the maps. "I like to travel the hawk path. It's a bit ambitious, but it's good when you need some time to think."

Eying the trail, Randy gave a little hum. "That… actually does look like a good trail." It had been a while since he had done any proper running, so if there was time after his job, well. Randy had a feeling he'd only just be getting the twenty-five grand for this job. "Thanks. Maybe I'll see you around again while I'm here."

"Hey, yeah, you staying for the moon?" Moon? What did that mean? That was definitely a code. Shit. Mark thought he was part of something and Randy didn't know what. _Fuck_, Randy hated when he pulled off a disguise too well - because of problems like this!

"I might," Randy gave an apologetic smile. "I'm not quite sure yet. I'm still settling in and everything's been pretty busy."

"Well, hey, I'm sure Novan won't argue one more in the pack for one moon." Mark smiled at him. "Hope we can see you there."

"I'll do my best." Novan? Pack? What in the absolute hells was going on? "Thanks again for the trail maps."

Leaving the building quietly, Randy let himself walk for about half a mile before he rubbed at his face and groaned. Of course Mark had to go and be _nice_. Now Randy felt _bad_ that he probably was going to be stealing from him at the least and turning him into police at most for stealing. He'd see how things went.

For now, at least, he could do one last lap around downtown and see if he couldn't get anymore information about those two.

* * *

Well, it wasn't what Randy expected, but it was interesting they had a herb shop in the middle of downtown. And nice crystals as well, among other things. He always did like to carry a few stones around, the ones that felt especially nice.

He was picking his way through some of the quartz crystals when something - a feeling or an instinct - had him snapping his head up to see a man around his age looking at some dried herbs. He wasn't especially interesting with ruffled black hair and green eyes hidden behind some frames, and in fact he would have blended into any crowd were it not for the cat around his shoulders, but something… Couldn't be. Could it? Maybe…

"Excusez-moi, vous parlez français?"

"Oui, je parle français, pourquoi?" The man answered slowly, giving Randy a strange look and looking over him.

Randy couldn't stop his laughter because the moment he met those eyes he _knew_. "Mother would be horrified if she ever saw what you've done to your hair, mon petit."

Andrew Claude Riter stared at him for only a moment before dropping the small herb bag he held and throwing his arms around his shoulders. "Randy! I can't believe it, what are you doing here?!"

Randy laughed, holding Andrew back just as tightly and pressing his face against the younger's shoulder. It had been so _long_. "I think I should ask that of you! I didn't know you lived in Amity Park."

"My mother and I have lived here ever since we moved from France. But what are _you_ doing in America? You're supposed to still be in France!"

"Yeah, I guess so." Supposed to be… Shaking his head, Randy hugged Andrew a bit more tightly before loosening his grip. "I've been in America the last few years , spreading the family name and all- Oh." The cat on Andrew's shoulders was now looking directly into his eyes. It was a little… unsettling… "Is that Vidya?"

"It is yes." Andrew smiled, looking at Vidya and smiling brightly. "I just can't believe you're in Amity Park of all places."

"I think that should be my line," Randy laughed, shaking his head. "I can't believe you even _remembered _me." Andrew Riter had been his closest friend when they were children, but that had been so long ago.

"Of course I did, how could I forget you?" Andrew looked around before leaning close and 'whispering' to him, "I still cringe whenever I see orange." Randy choked on laughter, quickly burying his face against Andrew's shoulder.

"I wouldn't blame you," Randy finally managed out through his laughter, letting Andrew go to pick up the dropped herb bag and press it back into his hands. "You always were taken with plants."

Andrew took the bag back. "Oh- Thank you, but I still need to pay for these. What are you doing in here?"

"Well, I _was _just looking at the crystals," Randy laughed, pointing towards the stand he was at. "But then I saw you."

"Sorry, sorry, I just… I guess I never thought you knew about all of this." It seemed like there were missed steps all over the place, today. The question was, now, what on earth _Andrew _was talking about. Maybe he meant the herbs?

"Oh, well, I use herbs in my own work a lot." Andrew had probably meant the herbs, which Randy did use when making some of his tranquilizer bullets.

Andrew's eyes opened wide. "Oh! So… What sort of work are you in, then? I can't think of anything that requires herbs _and_ crystals."

"Oh, uh, it's- Well." Randy cleared his throat, trying to remember if Andrew had ever learned of just what some of the Beaumont business consisted of. "I took after my father's line of work hence why I use the herbs. The crystals more… Well." Thinking about it, Randy gave a little back and forth tilt of his head. "They balance me, I suppose, and help me focus sometimes."

"Your… Hang on, your father?" Now Andrew was frowning at him, and looking confused, Vidya looking close to leaping at Randy.

"It's a bit complicated to explain," Randy smiled apologetically. "Mama wanted me to go in her line of work, but I thought it was more suited to Felicity."

"Her line of work? But- Well, you learned violin."

"You remember that?" Randy couldn't stop his grin. "That was so long ago… It's been years since I've had time to play."

"Oh, I understand what you mean. I haven't played piano for… Well. For a few years."

"That's a shame," Randy frowned. "Your songs used to always be so beautiful."

Andrew gave a shake of his head. "Oh, no, they were… They weren't that great- Is that the time? I'm sorry, Randy, I really have to pay for these, I have a potion brewing- But we'll have to talk again if you're staying in town a little longer!"

"I had planned to be here until the fifth, at least, but I might push it a few more days." Randy glanced to Vidya, giving her a small smile as he looked back to Andrew. "Exchange numbers?"

"Oh, yes, sure, here let me just-" Andrew took a pen out from behind his ear- How was he hiding it there? He moved over and scribbled his number messily on Randy's hand. "There. I really have to go. Text- Call- Fax me!"

"Fax?" Randy barely got the question out before Andrew was rushing off, Randy shaking his head. That kid continued to be as confusing as possible, it seemed. It was cute. Now, he just needed to pay for these. Maybe he should give his mother a call. She'd be pleased as anything to learn that he ran into little Andrew.

Making sure to transfer the number into his phone, Randy smiled as he picked out a few more crystals. Being in Amity Park was shaping up to be pretty interesting.

Stuffing the little stones into his pocket after he paid, Randy fished out his phone with a smile and dialed the number he knew by heart. It hardly took even a few seconds before the phone was being picked up, "Bonjour, Mama."

"_Randy my little darling! So nice to hear from you, dear. How are you?_" Laughing, Randy let himself keep in French as he walked back towards his motel.

"I'm good, Mama. I'm in Amity Park for a job and you won't believe who I ran into, today."

"_Oh, darling? Who did you… Did you say Amity Park?_" She didn't sound happy… She actually sounded… Scared? No, his mother had no reason to be scared.

"Have you heard of it?" Randy frowned. That was a little odd, but he was sure it was nothing to worry about. "I'll only be here for a few days, but I met Andrew Riter!"

"_Oh… Yes, I suppose you would. I've kept in contact with Sylvia, and she's told me the city they lived in._"

"That just shows I need to call you more so I don't get taken by surprise again," Randy laughed, trying not to let it be heard in his voice how worried he was now. His mother sounded… odd. Worried, maybe? "How is everyone?"

"_They're fine, your father is fine, your sister is wonderful as always. Are you… leaving Amity Park soon?_"

"I think so. Small towns can be… odd," Randy finally said, shaking his head. "I'll probably only stay long enough to finish this job and then leave."

"_Good, good… I know you don't like to stay in one place long, darling. Tell me. How are you?_"

"I'm as well as can be expected, Mama, like always."

"_Oh, come now, dear, there must be more than that. How is little Andrew dear?_"

"He seemed well as far as I could tell. We didn't need to talk much before he had to run off, but he did have Vidya with him, still!" Randy couldn't decide whether to laugh or sigh. "That cat must be so old, by now."

"_Ah, yes… He has Vidya, now? I am a bit surprised that she's with him, I suppose I would have thought he'd get his own…_"

"I'm not too surprised, Andrew was always attached to Vidya when he was younger, although I wouldn't be surprised if he has another few cats wherever he lives. He seems like the type."

It sounded like she chuckled slightly. "_Mm, he does, doesn't he? Randall. I need you to promise me something._"

"I… can try." His mother had never made him promise something he couldn't follow through, but, well. She was acting oddly, today.

"_Please, leave Amity Park before the evening of the fourth._" Oh… He did so hate to lie to her. Still, there was little choice, when it came down to it.

"You worry so much, Mama," Randy chuckled. "I promise I'll leave Amity Park and everything will be fine." That, at least, was a promise he could keep.

"_Thank you, love. That does help this old woman's heart feel better._" Old woman? She wasn't even fifty yet.

"Mm. I'll call you back when I can, Mama. Make sure to hug Felicity for me and tell Dad to stop taking such stupid risks."

"_I will, darling. I love you with all my heart._"

"I love you too, Mama. I'll talk to you again soon. Bye."

"_Good night, dear._"

Ending the call, Randy tucked his phone away and gave a sigh. He hated lying to his mother in anyway, but he didn't want her to have to worry about him. Besides, this was just a small town that he'd be in and out of. There was nothing _to _worry about. Just… Get the information and get the hell out. He didn't like the feeling this town gave him.


End file.
